Spanish Mornings
by AudioSafari
Summary: No one had asked him if he wanted this. SpainxYoung!Romano


No one had asked him if he wanted this.

Sighing, Lovino shifted against the matress, pulling the blanket closer around him. It was close to morning, he could tell.

It had only been a week since the child nation had been sent to live with Spain, a country he knew nothing about. He took an immediate dislike to Antonio- he was always smiling and happy and cheerful, for one. He also called him names in spanish, and although he couldn't understand what the other country was saying it made Lovino want to kick him in his vital regions. He had actually attempted it once, but Antonio had simply brushed away the attack, smiled, and asked him if he wanted a tomato.

Lovino growled, kicking away the blanket, frustrated that he couldn't fall back asleep. _Stupid tomato freak, _he thought. _It's his fault for owning these stupid, itchy blankets. _Knowing he wouldn't be able to fall asleep this way, Romano decided that he would treat himself to an early breakfast. This thought cheered him up as he hopped out of bed and trotted over to the door. The knob was too high for him to reach, even when standing on his toes. But that problem was fixed by stacking a few books up near the door, and soon the young nation was scampering down the hall, his feet making slapping noises on the stone floor as he made a beeline towards the kitchen.

At this time of the day the kitchen was warmer than the rest of the house. The scent of last nights dinner hung in the air, and the remaining wood in the oven popped from the heat. Lovino ignored all of this though, and pushed a chair to the side of the dining table to get into a basket that had been left there the night before. Even with the added height he wasn't nearly tall enough, so he settled for groping through the basket, and recoiled as his fingers wandered across the silky surface of a tomato.

"_Buenos dias_, Lovi." Romano nearly toppled off the chair in his surprise, grabbing the table for support.

Spain stood in the doorway, void of any clothes except for a pair of thin pants that hung from his hips. His dark hair was a mess on top of his head, and his bright green eyes held a trace of sleepiness.

"Don't call me that," Romano huffed, wiping his fingers on his night shirt "How long have you been up?" "I could ask you the same thing." Antonio smiled and ambled over to his ward, pulling the basket away from his grasp. "Are you hungry?" Lovino nodded. "I want something sweet." "_Bueno! _How do oranges sound?" Before Romano could protest Spain had produced a foreign looking fruit from another basket and began to peel it. Once completely peeled it broke apart into segments and he handed half of it the smaller nation. Lovino took tentative bites as the other watched. "Well? How is it?" Romano made little faces of displeasure, trying to pretend that the orange really wasn't good at all. Antonio just chuckled and popped a segment into his mouth.

They ate their breakfast in relative silence, the only noises being made were Lovino's healfhearted little growls. It was then that Spain noticed a thin line of orange juice running down the boys chin, and instinctivly he reached out his hand to wipe it away. Immediately Romano slapped away the offending hand and glared up at his caretaker. "Don't touch me, I can take care of myself!" This tomato freak was making him angrier by the second. "_Lo ciento, _Lovi. It's just that I-" "Stop calling me that! I'm tired of you trying to take care of me!" Romano stood up on his chair so he could look straight into Antonio's eyes. "Why can't you just hate me like everyone else?" "But I don't hate you." Antonio's voice sounded rather meek, like he wasn't used to being yelled at by a child.

"I wish you did! I wish you hated me and loved my stupid brother, just like everyone else does! Why can't you do that, stupid tomato freak? Why can't you just hate me?!" Lovino felt tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes, and he mentally kicked himself. There was no stopping the waterworks once they started flowing, and he didn't want to look like a wimp in front of Antonio. He sniffed audibly and rubbed at his eyes with his little fists. Then he heard Antonio speak.

"I don't hate you because you haven't done anything wrong to me."

Romano felt his lower lip quiver as tears began to roll down his face. _It's not fair, _he thought._ It's just not fair._ He barely noticed a pair of strong arms lift him up, cradling him against a wide, warm chest. "I know you really don't mean what you say sometimes. You're just a boy, I don't know what everyone expects from you. I know you're homesick, but you belong with me now. So please, can't you let me love you?"

That did it. All of the young nations former qualms were thrown out the window as he bawled uncontrollably into Spain's chest, letting out everything that had been bottled up inside of him. And Antonio just stood there, not yelling at him or scolding him. He rubbed circles into the boys back and murmured into his ear, trying to soothe the sobbing nation. "Shh... _esta bien. _It's alright. Everything's gonna be can cry as much as you want, Lovi. _Te quiero, _it's alright." Romano half heartedly punched Antonio in the chest, speaking in between hiccups and sobs. "D... don't c-call me that, y-you weirdo t-tomato freak." Spain tried to hide his laughter as he nuzzled the top of his wards head. "Ah, so I'm a weirdo now. Ok, I can live with that." He moved Romano closer, kissing the tip of the boys nose, once again whispering, "_Te quiero." _

He held him there until his sobs had lessened into little hiccups, and soon the first dim rays of sunshine seeped into the kitchen. Romano pressed his face into Spain's now damp chest and gave another sniffle before hearing the older country chuckle softly. "Hey," he whispered. "Do you want to see something cool?" Lovino nodded, throwing his little arms around Antonio's neck as the other stood up and headed towards the back door.

Outside it was beginning to warm up, and from their point on the porch Romano could see the tops of Spain's beloved tomato plants in the garden as they bobbed slightly from the weight of their fruit. Behind the back gate the hills of the Spanish countryside were alight with the early morning sun, and the first birds of the days had already begun to sing to each other. It was all very calming. Suddenly a soft rumble rose from Spain's chest, and from his lips tumbled the sweetest voice Romano had ever heard. Strangely it didn't bother him that Antonio sang in Spanish- he was too content. He suddenly felt too tired to keep his eyes open, and he felt himself relax more and more into Spain's arms. _Maybe,_ he thought. _Just maybe, this is a good thing._

---

**I'M BACK!**

**Hello, everyone. did you miss me? I hope so.**

**This past break I FINALLY found the time to finish this. It's actually written for my good friend Sara, who loves SpainxRomano as much (if not more) than I do. I imagine the song Spain sings as Pajaros en la Cabeza by Ismael Serrano. Such a pretty song. Enjoy, y'all.**


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